


Pleasant Dreams

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Victuuri Drabbles, Ficlets and Oneshots [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9366419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Viktor helps Yuuri back to his room after he gets too drunk at the party.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phayte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Was I Dreaming?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9173455) by [Phayte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/pseuds/Phayte). 



Yuuri blinked, looking around. He was in his room. When had he…wasn't he just at the party? The room tilted, as he suddenly listed to the side. That wasn't good.

"Whoa, easy there."

Strong hands suddenly had a hold of him, and he blinked up. It was Viktor Nikiforov. Excitement burst through him, only making him feel even more dizzy. He leaned into those hands, into that body right in front of him.

"I let you go for two seconds," Viktor was muttering.

"Am I dreaming?" Yuuri asked, or tried to. His own voice sounded slurred to his ears.

The chest he had pressed himself against, and really, that was an excellent decision, he was quite proud of that, shook. Viktor was chuckling, and it sounded…Yuuri close his eyes and pressed against him tighter. He could vaguely remember dancing with him, or dreaming, maybe. That wasn't so clear. It had been a party, maybe Viktor had taken pity on him.

"You're not dreaming." The words rumbled through Viktor's chest, low, soothing. Yuuri sighed, he wasn't so sure. He wasn't lucky enough in life to have something like this. He was a failure. He'd done so terribly.

"Whoa, hey, don't cry!"

Yuuri blinked his eyes open again as he was pushed back. Viktor was holding his forearms, and frowning at him. He was blurry. That's right, Yuuri was crying. What a mess.

"I was so bad," Yuuri wailed. "I'm a failure."

Viktor, or a dream of him. And Yuuri really, really hoped it was a dream, because he'd already embarrassed himself enough on the ice. He didn't need this as well. He didn't need all the other skaters laughing at him for more than just his skating.

Gentle hands removed his glasses, and then there was a pitiful sound. Grimacing, he realised he'd made it. Viktor was even more blurry, but maybe that was better. Yuuri didn't deserve to look at him.

"Everyone stumbles from time to time."

Yuuri laughed, unable to stop himself. How ridiculous. No one was as bad as Yuuri. "Viktor never stumbles."

"Even me." The voice was amused, and Yuuri squinted. That couldn't be Viktor.

"I'm hallucinating."

"I assure you, you're not," came the reply. "Where can I put your glasses down? Which door leads to your room?"

Yuuri squinted around the room, even though it was useless. Why was Viktor in his room?

"What happened?"

An arm encircled his shoulders, and then he was being guided gently across the room. He stumbled several times, and nearly fell, but Viktor kept him going. It was nice, Yuuri decided, even if it was surely a dream. Normally those hands were touching him in an entirely different manner in his dreams, but this was nice too.

"You had too much to drink," Viktor said gently. "We got you dressed again, and I helped you to your room, remember?"

"Not really." Why had he needed dressing? Yuuri bit his lip. He didn't want to say that out loud. It had to be a dream. Nothing was making sense.

He looked up. He could see the blurred outline of Viktor's profile. Or maybe just someone who looked a bit like him. They stopped moving for a moment, and Yuuri could hear a door open. He took the opportunity to lean over, and fumble for a grip on Viktor's chin.

Even if it wasn't him, it looked like him. Maybe this was what it would feel like to kiss Viktor, Yuuri thought. Viktor had made a startled sound, but not much else. Yuuri pulled back, and stroked his cheek.

"Always wanted to do that," he slurred.

"Alright then."

Yuuri frowned. What kind of thing was that to say after a kiss?

Before he could comment, he was being moved again. He stumbled, but strong hands held him steady.

"I'd rather you were holding other parts of me," he said, petulantly.

The hands on him tightened. They stopped moving, and Yuuri swayed forward from the momentum, only to be caught again.

"I'm surprised you didn't say this when you were all but grinding on me at the party."

Yuuri squinted up at him. "I wasn't."

"You were."

Yuuri licked his lips, thinking. Which was hard. He couldn't quite focus.

"Did you like it?" he asked. He didn't sound like he didn't like it. He didn't sound amused either. Instead, he sounded…neutral. Which told Yuuri nothing. "You're here. Or I'm dreaming. Or you just look like Viktor."

"Do you always drink this much?"

They were moving again, and Yuuri closed his eyes. Even without his glasses, even through the blur, the room was spinning. That ass. That wasn't an answer.

"No," he muttered. "Better to drink than deal with everyone laughing at how badly I skated."

"No one was laughing at you, Yuuri."

Yuuri felt his breath catch, and looked back up to that blurred face. "You know my name?"

Viktor Nikiforov knew his name. He felt his hands start to shake. He didn't want him to notice. He turned, grabbed Viktor's hips, turning him too, until they were facing each other. Without stopping to think, he leaned up and kissed him again.

Dream or not, lookalike or not, that was better than having him see that his hands were shaking.

Viktor made a muffled sound against his lips, but once again, did nothing. Yuuri pulled back, made an irritated sound, then tried again, lifting his hands to Viktor's face, sliding into his hair. At the feel of it, far softer than it looked, he moaned.

Then, Viktor kissed back, and Yuuri pulled away suddenly.

He squinted, and could just see well enough to see that Viktor looked surprised. He wished he had his contacts in, or that Viktor would give him his glasses back. Frowning, he realised that both of Viktor's hands were on him, one on his left shoulder, the other his right hip. Where were his glasses?

"You need to sleep this off," Viktor said, sounding annoyed.

"I'm fine!"

"You're drunk."

"Am not!"

"You—"

Yuuri didn't want to hear any more of that, as nice as his voice was. He leaned up again, catching him with his mouth open, and sliding their lips together. Viktor's hands spasmed on him, and then slid around to his back, pulling him closer.

Surprised, and not really expecting it, Yuuri went boneless, nearly falling, but Viktor held him up. When Viktor's tongue slid into his mouth, he moaned, and clutched at him more tightly, fistfuls of his hair pulling him down, kissing him deeper.

Another moan sounded out, but Yuuri realised it wasn't him, it was Viktor. Shivering, he let go of his hair, and slid his hands down, gripping his hips, pulling him closer. Viktor tore their mouths apart, but Yuuri just shifted to his neck. Viktor had such a nice neck, and he smelled so good.

"Stop, Yuuri," Viktor said, sounding breathless.

Yuuri pouted into his neck. Why should he? Viktor had kissed back. Tease. Then again, it was probably a dream anyway. There was no way Viktor would kiss him back.

"This is a nice dream," he murmured into the skin at the base of Viktor's throat.

"Not a dream."

Yuuri groaned as he was suddenly pushed away, and the room spun.

"I'm putting you to bed, this isn't right," Viktor muttered.

Yuuri hummed, because bed sounded good, and Viktor was the one saying it. He let Viktor lead him over, and then they stopped. For several moments, nothing happened, and Yuuri squinted up at him. He really wished he had his glasses.

"What?" he asked.

"You need…you can't sleep in your suit." That was true, although Viktor sounded unsure.

Yuuri looked down, squinting. He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, but he couldn't see clearly past the first few.

"Give me my glasses back."

"They're on the kitchenette bench," Viktor mumbled.

"Help me then."

Yuuri looked up, dropping his hands away from his buttons. There was a long silence, and Yuuri wished Viktor would do something. Maybe it wasn't a dream then, because Viktor didn't waste time in his dreams.

Finally, Viktor reached for him, and helped him out of his clothes. Yuuri could hear his own breathing increase, along with Viktor's, as his shirt fell away. Viktor seemed to hesitate, then his fingertips drifted gently down Yuuri's chest. He shivered, and made a pleased sound. Viktor's breath hitched, and then he was undoing Yuuri's trousers.

"You…" Viktor cleared his throat. "You need to step out of them."

Yuuri looked down, squinting. His trousers were now pooled around his feet. Wobbling, and enjoying the feel of Viktor's hands on him as he gripped his shoulders to steady him, he stepped out of his trousers, until he was just in his pants.

"Shit, you're—"

Yuuri looked up. Viktor had a hand over his mouth, his eyes closed. Or, that's what it looked like. Yuuri leaned closer, until he could see a little better. Why was he holding his mouth?

"You alright?" he asked, laying a hand on his arm and pulling his hand away from his mouth.

Viktor inhaled sharply, and then he was kissing him. Yuuri made a startled sound, but wasted no time kissing back, because it was fast, and desperate, and pushing him back. That was more like it.

Moaning, he slid his arms around Viktor, and pressed against him. A startled groan disappeared between their mouths. Oh, so that was what he had been about to say. Yuuri thrust against him, moaning again as Viktor's mouth fell to his neck instead. This was much more like his dreams. He could feel a hardness growing against him, and made a pleased sound.

"Viktor," he moaned, clutching at him.

Viktor's teeth scraped his neck for a moment, and then suddenly, he was pulling away. Yuuri whined, and tried to follow, but Viktor grabbed his arms, and held him back.

"No," he said. "No, this isn't…you're too drunk. Sleep it off Katsuki."

"But—"

"Find me tomorrow, we'll talk," Viktor said, pushing him back onto the bed.

Before Yuuri could process what had happened, he was tightly tucked in, and a firm hand on his chest was holding him down.

"You should learn to take defeat better," Viktor said. "You fumble your jumps. Learn from it. No one was laughing, not until you started dancing half naked. Although, even that was skilled."

"I did not!"

Viktor made an amused sound. "Come find me tomorrow, before we all leave. We'll talk."

Yuuri frowned, but Viktor leaned down, suddenly pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and stroking his cheek.

"It was nice meeting you, Yuuri."

Yuuri frowned as Viktor pulled away.

"Now, sleep."

By the time Viktor had disappeared out into the main room, turning off the light as he went, Yuuri was sure he had been dreaming. Although, he wasn't sure how he managed to make it out of his clothes without breaking something. Rolling onto his side, he squinted at the clock on his bedside table. The red glow was too blurry, and he sighed and closed his eyes.

When he woke up, he'd forgotten everything.


End file.
